


Royal Dilemma

by Jammy



Category: Neopets
Genre: Birth, Cousins, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, M/M, Neopets - Freeform, Other, and the two royal assholes, ask to tag, idk - Freeform, neopets OCs, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 06:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11397099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jammy/pseuds/Jammy
Summary: This was a first. Kanrik's older sister Janette had referred his services to a friend of hers, a Prince in Winterhelm who was eagerly awaiting for his first born. When he got there everything was going just fine.But then the child arrives.[Shimon Stoneark belongs to werelupewoods!]





	Royal Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

  * For [werelupewoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/werelupewoods/gifts), [t3f3r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/t3f3r/gifts).



> //slams hands on table// IT HAS BEEN DONE! 
> 
> I've been meaning to finish this story for DAYS, ugh, not only because I'm sorta trying a new-ish writing style but also because it has Kanrik interacting with Oliver, Cathal's son. [Or, his name is actually Sir Oliver Pauper Callahan but, yeah you get the gist]. Oliver is like his father, they're jacks of trades. They've done almost everything though Oliver is really into health/medical/healing. 
> 
> Shimon Stoneark [created by the wonderful and talented Em] makes an appearance but doesn't partake in the royal B.S. Lol. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy [I'm going to bed.... oTL]. And here's wonderwall. 
> 
> \-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

‘ _Congratulations! It’s a...uhm...’_

 

It was what no parent ever wanted to hear. Let alone, two royal parents who were looking to meet their new heir. And, of course, you never want to be the midwife to have that sentence fall from your mouth either. Well, here he is, still sitting on the stool at the foot of the Princess’ bed and in his arms wasn’t that of a wailing child…

 

But an egg.

 

The Prince demanded almost instantly to know what was wrong when he sees the shock on the blue Gelert’s face. The young skillful midwife could barely string together an answer for the awaiting father when the Kyrii looks over and his face goes white at the sight of the glistening shell. He turns to his wife, a Princess Acara, and as she opens her tired eyes to see her child they dart over to her husband, her complexion quickly matching his.

 

“Arlen.” the Prince breathes, half in anger and half in horror. “Where. _Is_. _**Our**_. _**Heir**_?” his voice grew with each word and at the very last one his yell is so loud it reached down to the hallways. Kanrik—or, Arlen in this case—brought the egg up in the sheet he caught it in and he held the shell close to his ear so to listen to the inside. This would be one hell of a prank if this was just a solid material….or worse, he’s read cases about unborns being inside their mothers for too long and calcifying on the inside. But this couldn’t be that easy of an answer, oh no. When he listened closely, he heard movement and a steady healthy heartbeat, there was a child in there alright.

 

“Sire.” Kanrik says, his tone was low and serious as he wraps the egg in a new clean blanket to keep it warm. “There is a life in the egg, so that means a child is in there, your child perhaps--”

 

“That can’t be!” The Princess yells with desperate tears in her eyes, “There is no one in my family that were birthed from eggs!”

 

“Nor mine.” the Kyrii drawls looking over at his wife accusingly at the corner of his eye, the Princess looks up at her husband and at first she looks perplexed but slowly the realization is starting to settle in and her face contorts to anger. Kanrik almost jumps up from the royal stool so he can take a few steps away from the royal couple with the egg still in his arms, knowing far too well what kind of discussion was going to take place. It’s best if he just stays clear of it…

 

“Asheton! You don’t believe that I had been unfaithful to you!”

 

“Well then explain to me why my child is in a shell, Alivia!” Asheton yells throwing his hands up in the air and barely hitting a servant that finally came close enough to help the Princess into cleaner garbs and fix the bed’s dirtied sheets. “An egg doesn’t come from a Kyrii and an Acara! It just doesn’t happen! I could blame magic on this but honestly, who has interests in pulling this sort of demonic trick on us?”

 

“Think of your business partners, my love.” Alivia states promptly, her eyes narrowing at her husband just as she slips out into a clean nightgown, “Or your competition? Or your mother—oh how much she’ll get a kick out of this when she finds out that I laid an egg!” the Princess feigns a cry into her hand making her servant recoil before finally trying to comfort her. It was obvious to Kanrik’s ears that the cry was fake, his eldest sister Katherine was born with the gift of faking many emotions, crying being one of them. It didn’t seem like the Princess was trying to cover up anything suspicious, but more so that it looked like she was trying to blame this all on her mother-in-law. Must be a royal family drama thing. _**Ugh**_ …

 

The midwife rolls his green eyes—careful to make sure that his head doesn’t fall back in snipe and give the Prince or Princess a chance to see him do it—before gently placing the egg into it’s royal bed just besides a window letting in the late evening light. “You get that—that vile _**thing**_ out of my child’s crib!” Kanrik’s head whips up to the direction of the Princess and, yes, she’s staring right at him as she yelled that. It was impossible to keep his jaw from dropping in shock,

 

“You can’t be serious—princess, this _**is**_ your child. I just delivered it, unless all those hours you spent struggling were in vain?”

 

“I don’t want anything to do with that cursed object! I just want my child! My _normal_ child!” she yells raising her fists and hitting them down against each side of her on the bed like a small toddler throwing a tantrum. “I want my child! I want my child! I want my child!”

 

“Oh. My gods.” Kanrik whispers under his breath, it would be an understatement if he says that this moment right now was just embarrassing as it was unnecessary. Of course, he would be a distraught and very confused parent as well if he and his spouse ended up somehow—someway—having an egg. (Though he admits that it would also be quite comical…) But really, was all this _royally_ annoying nonsense really needed? He finally takes the egg out from it’s bed and decides right now in this desperate moment….

 

It was time to call Nickolas.

 

Surely the cleric has seen something like this happen sometime in his very long life, right? He can sure as hell keep a much better composure than he can at this moment, with the way his stoic eyes burrows through people and his wise words he might actually get this Princess to calm down. If Nickolas hasn’t seen anything like this then maybe Cathal has, he did fight against monsters, graduated at the top of his class in Winterhelm, and traveled to many kingdoms that dotted the realm. Perhaps he came across some ancient and secret kingdom where all pets were born from eggs?

 

Worst case scenario, the couple were a two of the most powerful magic wielders in the land, surely they know a way to safely get the child out. And just for precautions and all that, Kanrik decided to keep the egg on him, since it was probably far safer in his arms than in the presence of these two dysfunctional royals. “Asheton, may I...uh...call for aid?” Kanrik was careful in moving as slow and calmly as humanely possible, he didn’t want to be in the presence of a screaming spoiled princess and of course, if it wasn’t manners to ask the father what he wanted he’d be out the door already calling his uncle.

 

“Who is it that you’re going to call, Alren?” the royal Kyrii is rubbing his fingertips against his temples as his wife is still throwing her fists against the mattress, now she’s gotten herself so upset that her legs are starting to flail about as well and two more servants run to her side in hopes of comforting her. The annoyance and anger is still on Asheton’s brow and now his eyes are shut tight, as if wishing he were anywhere else than there. A little bit of sympathy tugged at Kanrik’s heartstrings, only because a time like this was supposed to be a huge and wonderful milestone for new parents, but at the same time, he wonders if these two happened to piss off the right wizard and brought this upon themselves. “Your sister Janette—” the prince slowly breathes between clenched teeth and then exhales, still ignoring the chaotic scene happening behind him. “—has told me that you were the best midwife in all of the ten Kingdoms.”

 

“I—I’ve told you before; as proud as I am to be called such, that wasn’t a self proclaimed title.” the young blue Gelert’s ears twitch painfully as the Princess’ wailing doesn’t die down. His sympathy turns quickly from the parents to the child that is still trapped inside the egg, jolting and flinching at the loud noise it’s mother was causing. He slowly rubs circles onto the side of the shell, hoping to give the infant comfort, and he’s relieved that the hurried moving subsides. “But I know what I’m doing, right now I just need a second opinion from someone with more experience than me, that’s all. I was hoping to send for one of my uncles, if anyone were to know how to fix this mess, it would be one of them.”

 

“I’ll give you two hours to find out what is going on.” Asheton stated sternly turning himself around to face Kanrik completely, “Or I’m opening up that egg myself.” Kanrik’s expression goes from that of shock, to disbelief, and then to pure anger all in the same second while Asheton straightens his spine to resist the shiver that tried to crawl down his back. During the whole nine hours that the young midwife has been in their home he had been humble, calm, courteous, and quite charming in his own down-to-earth way. Even with Alivia’s misbehavior he kept himself composed as one could have, now though, it was terrifying to see his face darken into that of a completely different personality.

 

“From one prince to another, Asheton, you do not tell me what to fucking do.” the midwife holds the egg closer to his chest, more so that he can shield it from the Kyrii than to sit it comfortably in his arms. “You and your wife are upset, I get it, and I will give everything I have to make sure that this child of yours lives a healthy life. Which brings me to my last thought: If you even _try_ to put a crack on this shell without getting the ok from me or my uncles then I will use my authority to make sure you _**never**_ get to see your child grow up. Got that?” Kanrik turns himself away from Asheton and begins to head out of the room, the Princess still not giving up in her screaming and the Prince following him out the door only so that he can retreat to some hidden room down the opposite side of the hallway. The blue Gelert is greeted with three servants who stood in marvel at the yelling that was going on inside the room and Kanrik ordered them that they are not allowed to speak any word of the child being born yet, he didn’t want the grandparents finding out about this mess….not until he had answers.

 

Retreating into an empty study, Kanrik reaches around inside the satchel tied to his hip and finally pulls out a small red crystal with smooth pointed edges. He whispers Nickolas’ name into the stone and rubs it furiously against his arm for a few seconds until it begins to glow, at first dimming in and out, then finally staying completely lit. Holding the crystal close enough so that it was near his ear but far enough so he can make sure that the shard stayed lit, Kanrik’s relieved to hear a familiar voice clear their throat in response to the magic item’s call,

 

“Cathal Callahan.”

 

“Uncle Cal,” Kanrik breathes a sigh of relief and he takes a few steps over to a desk besides a window, comfortably sitting on top of the wooden furniture’s bare face to look out at the snow covered city of Winterhelm. He gently bounced the egg in his arm as he would with a newborn once the flurries of movement start up again, as if knowing the child inside was fussy. “Thank Fyora I got hold of one of you. I really need your help now.”

 

“Arlen, my boy! How’s your trip to the snow-hell capital of the North? Did you have the chance of getting frost-bitten yet?” Cathal laughs a little but it’s clear in his tone that he’s apprehensive of the sudden call from his nephew. Especially because Nickolas had told him just a few days earlier where Kanrik was going and why. Sure, he was born and raised in Winterhelm but the fondness he held for the kingdom crumbled away many years ago…for many reasons, one of them being because he was forced to live with and interact with many of the royal families while he lived there. If there was anyone in all of Neopia who knew just how stuck-up, resentful and downright spiteful a Winterhelm royal could be, it would be Cathal Callahan. “How’d the royal birth go?”

 

“Um, smooth, for the most part.” Kanrik began slowly looking down at the egg, he stops the bouncing for a moment to let it rest against his chest but when he feels the movement start up again he continues. Knowing that the gentle rocking was the only thing keeping this—sorta born—child calm. “At least, up until the end I mean, we have...a peculiar problem. The Princess had an egg.” the whole room got silent, so much so that Kanrik thought that the crystal had ran out of it’s magic and had cut off their conversation. Well...it’s still glowing, that means there was still magic inside it…and he charged it just last night so it should still be good for another month if he uses it sparingly…

 

“What?” Cathal’s question couldn’t be answered in time as he begins to howl in laughter, it kinda irked Kanrik a little because he saw nothing funny about this...or…he _**would**_ have, if the child’s father didn’t just threaten to break his child out from the shell. Or if Kanrik wasn’t worried that the child might be suffering on the inside or anything. Not hearing his nephew comment any further, Cathal’s laughter slowly—but surely—dies down into chuckles and again, there was a brief moment of silence as the hunter contemplates the situation. “You’re serious.”

 

“I’m worried about the child more than the parents...” Kanrik explains truthfully, he looks down at the egg when his uncle asks if there was a steady heartbeat or movement coming from inside. “Yes there is, I checked.”

 

“What does the egg look like? What’s the shell’s shape? It’s color? Is there spots on it and where?”

 

“It’s uh—it’s egg shaped? Like, a little narrow on top and wider on the bottom. It’s a lighter crème color and there’s very few speckles on it near the bottom, it’s also abnormally shiny. Not like steel, but more like…a glossy, kind of shiny.” there was another silence between them, for a moment Kanrik was unsure if it was because Cathal was thinking or rummaging through old books or whatever. He wasn’t even sure why Cathal had Nickolas’ gem shard on him—oh—right, never mind, Kanrik remembers now that at this time it was still early morning over in Krawk Island. Nickolas was serving mass right now, of course he’d leave the gem in the presence of his husband. “The father told me that he wanted to break it open himself, even though I told him that I was going to call for aid he insisted on doing it himself. So I’m in another room right now—”

 

“Good. Keep a close eye on the egg, monitor it’s heartbeat ever so often and do not let the egg down anywhere that’s not in your line of sight. Actually, don’t put it down at all, don’t even let anyone else hold it either.” Cathal states promptly, this time Kanrik can hear fluttering and rummaging of items, meaning that _now_ he was in the search for something on his semi-cluttered research desk. “Unfortunately I cannot be there, I’m taking care of Bonnibelle as Nicko’s serving mass and I’m not really...er...welcomed by most of the royal families there in Winterhelm. But! I will have Oliver meet with you there, he should be in the area with a friend of his anways. Also there’s no doubt that he’s probably seen some shit in his time as a doctor’s apprentice…” Kanrik nods his head and finally says ‘yes sir’ realizing that his uncle wouldn’t be able to see his gesture. “He should know what to do since he’s a doctor and this is all magic related. From what it sounds like this might be a—oh how the hell do you translate it?—an incubation spell of sorts. It’s a long story, Oliver will inform you the rest, just, monitor the egg closely Arlen. And good luck, son.”

 

“Thank you Cal, bye.” Kanrik watches as the crystal’s glow slowly depletes, meaning that their conversation had finished and then he puts the gem away in his satchel again before leaning against the window frame to watch the world below. He takes a moment to rest his ear against the warm hard shell and count the heartbeats, pulse seems normal, and it’s still moving, less frantic and more comfortably now.

 

It was almost fifteen minutes since his discussion with Cathal passed and after people watching out the window the muffled screaming from the hallway finally seized and the world almost became calm enough so that Kanrik can hear his own rushing thoughts. Looking down at the front gates outlining the courtyard Kanrik can make out a familiar Christmas Gelert walking through the foot or so of snow outside of the grand estates. He was much younger than Cathal, but shared his hairstyle and the same slit cursed eyes. His glasses were more profound and larger than his father’s, though he wore the older hunter’s old suit and caplet of dark maroon and red. His cousin Oliver could probably pass himself as Cathal if he really wanted to and no one would notice on the right away, actually, it wouldn’t surprise him if he had done it a few times in his life already. The only difference between them physically was Oliver’s beautiful earthy brown hair color and the height, Oliver was almost a half a head shorter than his father.

 

The midwife watches on, his expression momentarily twisting into intrigue as he catches a glimpse of the friend Oliver was walking with. The man was a very pale colored Gelert with an odd looking black outfit, covered almost completely with a matching tattered cape and capelet. A grey scarf was wrapped securely around his neck—almost covering his face—and his long wavy brown hair almost danced as he walked hurriedly next to Oliver, though, his strides seemed to be larger than his cousin’s so it meant that he didn’t have to try so hard to keep up. It was impossible to see the mysterious Gelert’s eyes, since they were covered with not only a casual hunter’s hat but also by the curls of his hair, the bangs on his right side were as pale as his features and...did he have freckles? Those look a lot like freckles to him...looks like an attraction to freckles is a trait they share in the family...

 

The two stopped momentarily at the front gates, the torn looking Gelert holds out a bag towards Oliver—his medical bag—and the young Christmas Gelert quickly looks down at himself to fix his coat, brush off the snow collecting on his shoulders, and straighten his vest before taking his tools gratefully. They exchange a few unheard words, Oliver frowns at whatever his friend said and comments something else that makes the other Gelert shake his head hurriedly. The short laughs he made looked as though he had just been asked by Oliver to jump off a cliff with him, promising that they’d only break a couple of bones.

 

Oliver mentions something, again, though this time he’s crossing his arms and has that know-it-all smirk that he inherited from Cathal on his muzzle. When his friend says something the two of them laugh, and they avoided eachother’s gaze. For a moment the pale Gelert looks up towards the giant mansion on the other side of the gates, says a few more silent words to his Christmas colored comrade before finally turns around to fully face young Oliver who finally sighs in defeat. Though they didn’t leave it there, Oliver reaches with his hand to playfully tug at his friend’s sleeve as he nods his head over to a tavern just across the street, maybe telling him to wait there for him.

 

The friend looks over, back at Oliver and then smiles largely, almost ominously.

 

Though he laughs largely when Oliver compliments something else in a ‘matter of fact’ head tilt while twirling their fingers around together. The mysterious Gelert gives a rather _flamboyantly_ looking goodbye as he brings Oliver’s hand up high into the air and then back down to his almost scarf covered muzzle—as if mocking the way royals usually kiss the back of hands of another they are trying to impress—then finally parted ways. Him heading into the tavern just a little way’s down the street and Oliver opening the large metal gates to trudge through the snow and enter the property.

 

Well….that was interesting to watch, to say the least.

 

Thankfully Oliver didn’t take his sweet time to find Kanrik, just a few short moments after the whole conversation outside took place there was a soft knock at the door. A servant barely had the chance to open the door for Oliver who swung the elaborately carved door open with the simple push of his hand. Kanrik managed to turn himself in his seat so he can face his older cousin but he doesn’t get the time to get up from the desk face as the young Christmas Gelert sets his medical bag besides him on the bare tabletop and open it with a relieved sigh.

 

“Arlen, good to see you. How are things?”

 

“Um, fine, thanks.” Kanrik slowly comments, his eyes falling suspiciously on the woman who didn’t leave them and continued standing near the corner of the room. Not that he would’ve mind if the doctor’s apprentice had asked for someone to stay with them, but he didn’t want any rumors to circulate if they had to send her out to get supplies. He guesses that Oliver might’ve had the same thoughts as him, because he didn’t even raise his gaze to the young woman as he waves a hand over his shoulder to order her to leave the room and not speak to anyone, and she does, thankfully. Kanrik breathes, almost fully, calmer now that it was just the two of them. “I told you, you can call me Kanrik.”

 

“And have you get thrown out into the snow after letting the servant’s know your identity? I would never.” Oliver winks at the midwife as he begins to pull out various tools and things from the bag and neatly display them on the table’s face. “I didn’t forget Kanrik, please, have a little more faith in me when it comes to my already jagged memory.”

 

“I’ll try.” Kanrik manages to smile, he looks down at the egg when he feels movement again and so he presses his ear to the shell. Noticing that Oliver’s arms slowed down, as if looking on in wait for his findings. Pulse is normal, movement is normal—calm even. Seeing no reaction of panic on his cousin’s face Oliver continues to lay his tools out, “Uncle Cal said you might’ve seen something like this before.”

 

“We’ll see.” the young doctor mutters quietly to himself, flipping one of his hands in the air, engulfing a small journal on the table in magic and casting it to float into the air just besides him. As Oliver grabs a small quill pen from his breast pocket the journal’s pages flip hurriedly on their own and stop on a blank page, allowing Oliver to write down the date and the description of the patient. He lets the pen sit in the middle of the pages of his journal and he reaches for the egg but stops when Kanrik doesn’t even bother to hand the crème colored object to him.

 

“Uncle Cal told me not to let anyone hold it.”

 

“Of course he did.” Oliver groans bringing his hands up in a mock surrender, “Fine, fine. But you’ll be turning it around and allowing me see every inch of this thing when I tell you to. Got it? Good.” he didn’t even let Kanrik to answer his question as he hurriedly got to work. Oliver asked Kanrik for the weight of the egg and what time it arrived, he then pulled out an odd pair of spectacles with many lenses attached to it’s rims, going from one lens to another and then taking it off again so he can put on his normal frames and writing down his findings in hurried petpet scratches. Oliver pulls out another instrument, a calliper so he can measure the width, height, and length of the egg. Again, he writes the measurements down. Just like Kanrik, he places his ear on the shell to listen, and every few seconds he would tap two beats against the egg with his forefinger and index finger. Once on top, once in the middle, once on the bottom and then he repeated the steps again. Kanrik only realizes after the second time Oliver begins to do the tapping that after the child inside would move, almost copying the sounds itslef, but...what did all this stuff mean? Oliver whistles in between his teeth as he stands himself upright and writes in the journal, “Well, it’s just as I figured…or, uh, as father figured.”

 

“What?” Kanrik asks, the curiosity almost killing him. “What is it?”

 

“So, this is all magically induced.” the Christmas Gelert explains letting go of the objects in his hands though the pen keeps writing on the page as the journal floats in the air. Oliver is gently stroking the peach fuzz on his chin as his eyes carefully examine the egg nestled in his cousin’s arms. “But you might’ve already known that, being that two…y’know, live-birth pets can’t bear eggs. Since you weren’t really alarmed during the labor, you thought it might’ve been the placenta or the sac coming out along with the baby correct? Anyways, what you’ve witnessed here is the spell: _‘incubare nom postea’_ in due course of it being casted. It’s an incubation spell usually performed if a parent _**must**_ deliver a child and it is far too early for it to survive on it’s own. Even if the mother is not one to lay eggs the child will come out in one, the thicker the shell, the longer the child must stay in it so it can fully develop. It’s a very simple spell, very hard to mess it up so even a dim-lighted amateur can cast it. It’s a very, very useful spell if you’re a midwife or doctor, it has saved many children’s lives….of course, like all spells, it can be used for ill intent as well. No doubt it, whoever did this they really wanted to cause family drama and frighten the mother...”

 

“Ok,” Kanrik began slowly looking down at the egg and then back up at Oliver, “so what do we have to do for it to hatch? Just wait? The parents didn’t even want to see the egg for another moment further when I was with them. They were being really...distant. And that’s me using a sugar coated word.”

 

“It’s a good thing the parents aren’t in this room then.” the hunter claims with a frustrated huff under his breath, “I’d tell them to go screw off! It ain’t a bloody demon that’s in the egg, it’s their own flesh and blood for fucksakes! If they don’t like the way it looks then I’d pay top coin to see the poor lad break out of it’s little prison and not look a damn thing like the father.”

 

“Honestly, so would I.” the midwife snickers and the two Gelerts look on at the egg in a momentary silence, Kanrik arranges himself a little so he can get the blood circulating again into his legs and he clears his throat. “So...we wait then?”

 

“Shouldn’t be long now.” Oliver explained waving his hand again, this time the desk chair pulled itself out and as he lifts the end of his cape up so he can comfortably sit in his seat the magic gently pushes the chair back into place for Oliver to be seated next to his cousin. “The shell’s so thin the child can hear us, if the child was carried full term with little to no complications in the mother’s pregnancy then it should be soon. When the egg begins to hatch then it would be up to us to help the child come out, since it has no way of breaking out of the egg on it’s own.”

 

“That makes sense.” Kanrik sighs under his breath, crossing his legs so that he can unfold the blanket in his lap and let the egg sit in it’s small make-shift hammock. “We’ll know that it’s going to hatch if it—begins to move a lot, right? I’ve only been to a couple hatchings before.” which was true, on a few occasions when Kanrik would help a Lenny or a Bruce deliver an egg it would begin to hatch right then and there. Mostly because the mother had held the egg longer than she should’ve, maybe it was the same thing?

 

“When the egg can fully turn itself over on it’s own then we know it’s time.” Oliver lets his elbows rest against the table and holds his chin in the palms of his hands as he watches the egg closely, blowing just enough air so that it moves a couple strands of his hair away from his face. “So...now we wait.”

 

– – –

 

Twelve hours, well, technically it was nine with the other three hours just taking care of the child in replacement of the parents.

 

Nevertheless, twelve hours later, finally. There was a little baby girl in the world.

 

She looked just like her father, a royal girl colored Kyrii with an adorable beauty mark under her right eye and she—definitely—inherited her lungs from the mother. Kanrik blew out a large sigh of air in relief when the child began to scream her little head off.

 

Finally.

 

Kanrik watched on as Oliver gathered the shells from the egg onto a cloth in his other hand so that he can transfer the small shards to a motar. Whistling as he worked, Oliver used a pestle to crush the shards into a fine powder and he transferred the dust into a small bottle to cork it up and put it away in his bag. Though there were many questions now that bombarded Kanrik’s mind he couldn’t bring himself to ask why he really wanted those egg shell dust…maybe he can ask Jenner about it, he knows a lot about magic too and his wife was a healer.

 

“I’m so glad you allowed me to work with you today, Kanrik.” Oliver chirped patting the blue Gelert on the shoulders adoringly, he reaches over to the baby Kyrii princess who finally subsided her crying so he can lift her up into a new blanket, his voice going that from it’s usual sarcastic tone to more sing-song. “Hello lil bairn! Lil loud-mouth angry princess, lookit you! So angry and fierce, grrr!” Oliver laughs a little bouncing the child slowly in his arms, and in a split second his voice goes back to normal as he looks up at his cousin. “Not only I got to finally work with you, but I also got to meet a lovely lil lady at the same time.”

 

“I should be thanking you, and uncle Cal of course.” Kanrik says finally getting off of the wooden desk and stretching his sore limbs out. Though he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face when he watches Oliver fawning over the little newborn royal, just the way that Oliver made noisy kisses to the baby’s chubby cheeks or sings an improvised song about her messy hair and little hands reminded him too much of how Cathal would act in the presence of babies and children. He’s silent at first, enjoying the moment that the doctor has with this little child and once Oliver realizes what exactly he was doing he sheepishly hands the white bundle back to the other pet, ‘professionally’ clearing his throat. “You know Ollie,” Kanrik begins to say, rearranging the blanket’s folds so that it covers up the baby girl’s exposed hands. “it looks to me like you really enjoy doing your job.” Seeing that the Christmas Gelert didn’t bother to cut him off or comment about his statement the midwife continues. “Ever thought about being an apprentice to a midwife? I could use someone with your schooling and attitude to help me out.”

 

“You mean become a mentor to a certain young midwife, right?” Oliver asks with a huffed laugh, he turns himself to the other side of the desk, wiggling his fingers so that a cloth came flying out of the bag and began to wipe off whatever tool he hands the enchanted object. Once the cloth as finished polishing off the medical instrument it would carefully place it in the bag and move on to the next item Oliver handed it. “I mean, don’t get me wrong Kanrik you’re knowledgeable in this sort of thing but—I’m older and wiser. You would benefit more from learning under _me_ than the other way around.”

 

“Isn’t a teacher supposed to learn from their students while they teach?” Kanrik asks with a snarky grin, though Oliver opens his mouth to answer he quickly shuts it again and brings one of the tools in his hand to his chin as he thinks over the question. He smiles triumphantly, knowing all too well that Oliver was always one to overthink questions that might be intrusive to one’s personality. If he was to say ‘no’ then not only would be be closed-minded but he would be a liar as well, if he said ‘yes’ then he would be letting Kanrik win…and he won’t allow that. Kanrik brings the baby up more to his chest and almost skips passed his older cousin with a growing smile, “While you think that over, I’ll be presenting the child to the royal family.”

 

“Har, har. Just give me some time to figure out a more…thorough answer for you, Kanrik. So that way you can understand my line of vision.” The doctor tosses the tong looking instrument into the leather bag and clips it shut just in time to catch up to Kanrik as he’s leaving the small office and walking towards the master bedroom. “I was telling the truth though, thank you so much for letting father call me. I’ll be sure to connect my ring to your shard so that you may also contact me whenever another situation like this—or something more dire—arises in your line of work.”

 

“I really appreciate it Oliver, thank you.” the midwife stops at the master bedroom’s door, unenthusiastic to knock thanks to the drama that happened in the room before…but at the same time he’s dreading the very feeling that this child was kept away from her parents for too long. Kanrik looks over to see Oliver’s face, the slightly taller Gelert is pushing his glasses farther up on the bridge of his nose and he’s not looking too thrilled of being in the doorway either. Maybe he too got the ‘pleasure’ of meeting the parents, or, at least the Prince because he highly doubts the Princess left the room during the time they were trying to free their daughter from the egg. “Well, I might as well knock--”

 

“Or, we could tell them that some crazy man came in and kidnapped the child, making her lost forever.” Oliver’s smile turns a little more dastardly when Kanrik asks in sheer puzzlement ‘and why the hell would we tell them that?’. “Well from what father has told me about these people, I don’t think they’re responsible enough to take care of a child. _You_ on the other hand, are. Or father...fuck, even _**I’m**_ more capable of raising a child than these bloody morons. If I can just get my friend in here to cause just a _minor_ distraction—oh, I dunno...maybe light a curtain or two on fire—than I can just hop through their fireplace and I’ll be out in Haunted Woods before anyone will even realize--”

 

“No.” Kanrik says his knuckles raping on the door before Oliver could even have the words ‘hear me out’ fall out of his mouth. “I’m not having his discussion with you either, I’m not going to let you kidnap this child Oliver.”

 

“Alright, alright, fine.” the hunter surrenders though the snarky grin on his face doesn’t leave, even when one of the other servants opens the door for them to enter and greet the parents a second time. “We’ll continue this talk later with the next delivery, and the next child.”


End file.
